


sweater weather

by overkidd



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety, Crying, M/M, Panic Attack, Tags will be updated as the story progresses, Trans Hanzo Shimada, Trans Male Character, Unreliable Narrator, and this is in his perspective so thats whats used up until hanzo is like 'hold up', kind of? bc jesse uses hanzos dead name and she/her pronouns prior to hanzo coming out, really briefly implied child abuse, references jesse crushing on angela but nothing happens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 04:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12225774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overkidd/pseuds/overkidd
Summary: growing up together au for mchanzo





	sweater weather

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: im a trans guy

"I think she likes girls."

It's not the first thing he wants spilling out of his mouth as he sits by the window, cigarette hanging precariously betwixt his lips, with nicotine ebbing into his lungs with each breath but it is. He hears Noriko snort and the melodic tapping of her fingers against the keyboard falter, drags his attention from outside to the girl cross-legged on her bed, his heart thrumming one pathetically brutal beat as she grazes her fingers up- up- up to tuck strands of fallen hair behind a pierced ear forcing his gaze to drag across her face; her nose, crooked as her cupid's bow smile, scrunches and the corners of her eyes crinkle with amusement.

"Just because she isn't interested in you doesn't automatically means she's into women, Jesse."

Warmth washes into the teen's cheeks at the insinuation, feels his throat close up for a moment before he's shaking his head. "No- no, I know, I just- honestly think she's- you know?' His hand had risen half-way through his denial to pull the smoke from it's turbulent perch and as he gestures vaguely outwards he does his best to keep from ashing all over the carpet. "A lesbian?" She's still teasing him, this time for beating around the bush and he swears he can hear her practically purring in amusement. "I'm being serious!" His voice pitches higher than usual with adamancy as he tries once more, defensive, but his walls fall down as he watches his friend's- best friend's, really -face soften.

"I know you are." She pauses after that and the silence sits heady, making the cowboy's skin crawl, before she speaks once more. "Is it a problem?" The tentativeness of her voice strikes a cord so deep within his core he finds himself crushing the marlboro in hand and flicking it out the window so that he can turn his eyes upon her fully. "Of course not, Nori, I mean- it's a bummer for me, 'cause I fancied her 'n all, but like I ain't upset... like that."

He hates how desperate his tone becomes when he goes to reassure her but he'd do anything if it'd stop her from closing up again; his pride matters little in the grand scheme of things. Her knuckles have paled where they curl around the corners of her keyboard, fearful, and it makes his throat go dry; he wants to reach out, to comfort her, but instead he just watches as expression after expression flutter across her face- he breaks the silence with hesitance.

"D'you? Like girls I mean." He's as disgusted as he is confused by the disappointment that comes flooding into his veins at the possibility since what does it matter if she likes girls? Nothing, it doesn't, so why does he feel so upset? He nearly misses, trapped in his own personal crisis, that the girl is shaking her head but the way her hair tends to throw itself is just too eye-catching to miss— it splays like a fan, catching light in it's tendrils, before congealing into a mass of endless inky black at her shoulders and wow is it distracting —so he can't help but notice, quickly pulled out of his reverie as he realizes she still looks moments away from a breakdown.

He keeps from letting loose the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in favor of closing some of the distance between them, a handful of steps, watching as she stares at the ground with such intensity it rivals the sun. Her hands are shaking, so bad, trembling like a leaf in a hurricane and before he knows it he's crouching down before her to take them in his own- finally puffing out what he'd sequestered in his lungs as he curls his fingers around her's.

"Hey— _hey,_ " He has to repeat himself, just to make sure she's listening, because god does she seem a million miles away right now. "Nori, it's _okay,_  whatever it is it's  _okay._ " He's babbling blind reassurances, without a clue as to what he's supporting, but it doesn't matter really; whatever it is, so long as it's her, it doesn't matter. He feels guilty for having gotten lost in his own little world, jealousy rearing an ugly head, and- it clicks, in that moment,  _jealousy_. He was jealous at the prospect of not being what Noriko wanted, beyond a friend who doesn't want to be forgotten, he- he wanted her to be able to want him. He has an epiphany.

He thinks he likes Noriko.

Though his breath hitches he knows now's not the time for it, he brushes the revelation aside and begins squeezing her palms with stacatto beats, each clutch distinct from the last as he ponders over what he's gonna say next. "I didn't mean anything by it, hon—" He starts though is quick to choke on his words as she splutters and hiccups, shaking her head again and again, with tears rolling fat down her cheeks- he's never seen her cry like this before, in all of the years of knowing each other, caring for each other, and all the things she's been through -it's more than just a little unnerving and he still doesn't have a clue what to do.

He just keeps reaching out to grasp at straws, to run fingers across ruddy cheeks through wet tracks as her nose grows runny and her face puffy, in hopes of offering some semblance of stability amidst this hellish storm; his voice cracks when he speaks, as if he were the one who'd been crying, timid and weak. "Y'gotta— y'gotta tell me what's wrong, darlin', or else I can't help ya." She's digging her fingers into his wrist now, grip tight, but he can't find it in himself to care about that; he just wants to know what's going on- he just wants to make her stop _hurting._

"Whatever it is I ain't gonna let it change a thing between us, y'know that, right?" Their eyes meet, jet black on amber brown, and he watches as her face screws up- it starts with a furrow of the brow, then a crinkle of the nose, lips drawing into a grimace, and ending with her eyes twisting shut. She drops her head forward after a moment, nearly bashes his nose on the way down, most likely too out of it to realize how close they are as she continues to sob uninhibited. He waits and waits for the trembling to ween, her breathing to even, and then some- chin rested on the crown of her head, face hidden in her roots, smelling strawberry shampoo as he rocks her softly.

"I want to be a boy." Oh.

He knew it was a thing, it's the twenty-first century after all, guys and gals- others too -born into a body they don't exactly agree with- but he'd never met someone in that particular situation before, or at least, he'd thought he hadn't anyways. He also knew why it'd get the other crying like they were, 'cause while he never understood the hassle about it- if someone says they're something than that's what they are, ain't none of your business to convince them otherwise, it's just common decency -it most certainly was there, by God was it there, with bodies piling up to show for it.

He pulls back in spite of the way the older's grip tightens upon his arm, hand having snuck up his biceps at one point during all the cradling, and how it makes his heart sink; _'It's only for a moment',_ he tells himself, _'Just gotta get your words out, and it'll all be better.'_ He's panting desperate breaths between them, begging to fill his lungs again and again, shivering so intense it feels as if he's about to peel apart from his very skin. He hears the shorter whisper, a rush of air against his neck, something close to _'please don't-'_   and he's ready to start crying too.

"Then you're a boy, simple as that." Jesse's met with a stuttering exhale and the warmth of new tears on his skin, but it's a slow ebbing thing instead of the crashing waves of before, and he's quick to realize that instead of fear there's _relief_. His knees have begun to ache from being perched upon the shag flooring of his friend's bedroom, surely mottled with the carpets design by now, but there's not a thought in his mind to get up now- no, like this he can see everything he needs to, how the older's face unfolds eyes glossy and cheeks pink but recovering all the same.

"Y'gotta name picked out for yourself?" He's not too sure if this is the kind of shit he's supposed to be asking because although it feels right it could totally also be a faux pas of some sort, after all his knowledge is limited when it comes to this, and now that he's thinking about it he's probably the least suited to help the other through this- but yet he knows he's still sure as hell going to try. There's another long pause like before which stings a little 'cause that means he's either fucked up, which'd be embarrassing, or something's keeping the other from telling- like distrust -and goddamn does that smart in whole other way. He learns to breath again when he catches the shift of black hair once more, it all rushing forward with a nod, before reaching yet another understanding.

"I reckon you've been feeling this way for a while now, then?" Another nod, this time curter- _'pained'_   Jesse's mind supplies -and it makes his heart sink. "...why didn't'cha tell me?" He's heard the horror stories, left and right, kids in similar situations too caught up in what they 'can't' be that they decide it's better to not be at all and he can see his friend so goddamn clearly in that moment; desperate, wishing for a better life, like so many times before. It doesn't feel a longshot in the slightest that's where he could've ended up- then he reminds himself it's still a possibility that isn't erased by the other's admittance, either, and he feels the urge to cry in turn.

Jesse's not too sure if it shows on his face, the fear that is, or if it's just the question itself but the sobbing makes a violent resurgence much to his dismay. "Shit— no, no, 'm sorry. I know it's probably been rough on you, I just wished I'd known sooner 's all, I ain't offended or anythin'— I just want you happy." There's sputtering for a handful of moments but it tapers into something lesser than before relatively quickly, Nori- not Nori? -'s doing her— his, his, his —his best to regain his composure even when it's clear all he wants to do is keep letting it out which, although unhealthy, calms Jesse's nerves some because, yeah, that's much more like him; he isn't sure if he should feel bad for thinking that.

"Whatcha wanna be called?" The boy starts, slightly, it's the tiniest jolt in his shoulders and for a moment he just stares- right into Jesse's eyes -before they're flickering off to the wall in something close to embarrassment. "Y'know 's alright if y'don't got something picked out quite yet—" He's cut off promptly with a rasp, the shorter's voice crackling from disuse, tone near exasperated- and realizes that it's with the other's self -as he answers. "Hanzo."

The cowboy's lips twitch, fighting off a simper, voice filling out with amusement when he speaks again recalling their last unit in world history. "Like Hanzo Hattori?" The older ducks his head again, ears growing red at their points, looking ashamed- but not for long, luckily, as Jesse's quick to remedy it. "I like it—" He begins, untangling their limbs so he can hold the other's cheeks within his palms, head tilting to the side with and eyes crinkling with sincerity; he feels the heat of, as much as sees, Hanzo's hand twisting around his own- surprised when that's it, not even the tiniest of tugs greeting him, just a delicate wrap that sends a rush of color to tanned cheeks.

"— suits ya, Hanzo." And then, all at once, soft lips are on his.


End file.
